


Stitch Sew

by AriWrote



Category: COMMUNICATIONS Series - GHOST
Genre: Drabbles, Gen, Implied/Referenced Character Death, POV Second Person
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-23
Updated: 2016-08-23
Packaged: 2018-08-10 16:32:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 584
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7852675
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AriWrote/pseuds/AriWrote
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nancy sews and Nancy waits.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stitch Sew

**Author's Note:**

> I'm going to regret. But eh.

        You’re waiting for Henry. You’ve been waiting for Henry for a while. You don’t quite remember where he’s gone or why; you tell yourself that’s he’s busy with work and that’s it, but even that explanation doesn’t ease the worry gnawing at your stomach. What ever the reason for his absence, you know that he’ll be home soon and you’ll be here to welcome him into your arms. 

        His wallet sits on the table besides his bed, forgotten, you presume, in a mad rush to get to work.You prepare dinner every night –Henry’s favorite- and wait for him to return. Many nights pass where you are forced to eat alone and have to pack Henry’s portion in the fridge for when he returns. You go to bed alone and wake up the same way. In the morning, you tell yourself that Henry’s side of the bed looked slept in before you made it. You clean out the spoiled food in the fridge and don’t look to closely at what you’re throwing away.  You pick up his clothes scattered around the room and roll your eyes at Henry’s mess.

              _ ~~(It’s all wrong, Nancy. Everything is w r o n g.)~~_    

           You’d never admit it, but waiting for Henry to return for work, the army, wherever it is he’s momentarily gone to… It’s put a strain on you. There are moments when your love for him can only keep you going so far and doubt starts to creep in. What are you really waiting for? Is Henry really coming back to you? You try to busy yourself with sewing, but that quickly turns sour.

        _~~(Look in the b a s e m e n t, Nancy.)~~_

             It’s at that point, moments from tearing your work to shreds- that you decide to  turn on the radio as loud as you possibly can.You can’t help but smile as you listen to him.  His voice, Henry’s voice, flows, eradicating any pesky negative thought in your head. Even the darkest of your doubts can be vanquished by the familiar black and white of Henry’s voice. You don’t really listen to the words (current events have never really seemed important to you, and even when Henry had talked about them over dinner, you’d only smiled and feigned interest). The words don’t matter. What matter is that Henry is speaking, and Henry is _alive_.

          You’re so wrapped up in listening to his voice that you don’t notice the needle until it’s digging into the soft flesh of your palm. You drop what you’re working on and-

          For a moment, the black and white fades.

          Blue and green lights flicker behind your eyes.

          You pause for a moment, and grimace. The sudden onslaught of colors not Henry’s physically hurts. Your head aches and your vision is blurry. Everything is _wrong._

          You shake your head and the black and white of Henry’s voice returns. Your head still pounds, but Henry’s familiar colors ease much of the pain. You chuckle to yourself and pull the pin from where it’s lodged itself into your flesh.

          You must be tired. What other explanation could there be? You place your work aside (a shirt of Henry’s that you can’t remember him ripping, even though the long tears through it surely imply he did), and get up to turn the radio off.

          Sparks of blue break through the monochrome of Henry’s voice.

          Far more violently than necessary, you turn the radio off and head to the bedroom.


End file.
